


between here and now

by ficklish



Series: klance week 2017 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A Pinch of Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Klance Week 2017: Scars, M/M, but they also kiss a lot don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficklish/pseuds/ficklish
Summary: “I’m alive, Keith. I’m right here.” Lance drags Keith’s hand back to his chest, just above the little starburst — so small, for all that it could’ve taken everything that matters from Keith.





	between here and now

**Author's Note:**

> this is for day 3 of klance week. i skipped day 2 i'm sorry, my brain just wasn't having it, but i hope the copious amount of tender smooching makes up for that.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance’s voice is a whisper against his skin, slightly ticklish as he punctuates his words with a smattering of kisses across Keith’s collarbone.

Keith smiles, or he tries to, leaning into the touch as his gaze tracks the slow rise and fall of Lance’s shoulders. His thumb brushes the smooth, uneven ridge of a long-healed scar on Lance’s back, and he has to close his eyes against the image, startlingly clear in his mind's eye, of Lance lying motionless and wreathed in a pool of his own blood, a bloody spear protruding from his chest like a growth.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice has lost its playfulness, and the edge of worry coaxes Keith out of his own head. When Keith opens his eyes, Lance is looking down at him with mismatched eyes, propped up on an elbow with his thin brows furrowed cutely. The expression pulls at the scar that cuts down the right side of Lance’s face and renders him blind in one eye. His partial blindness hasn’t affected his piloting — Lance sees through Blue’s eyes when he flies — nor has it affected his ability as a sharpshooter, but it leaves him with more openings than Keith is comfortable with during hand-to-hand combat.

The sheets have fallen from across Lance’s shoulders, pooling around his narrow waist, and the starburst of lighter, newer skin just above his heart catches the light. Keith has to clench his fists, blunt nails digging sharply into his palms to centre himself in the present moment.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance repeats, but there’s a subtle resignation in his tone; he knows what Keith’s thinking about.

Keith lifts a hand and splays it over the starburst in answer. Lance’s skin is hot, and Keith can feel the steady beat of his heart just beneath his palm. The sensation calms him somewhat, as does the softness in Lance’s eyes when he lays his hand over Keith’s.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” Lance says. He pulls Keith’s hand away from his chest, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight. “None of you could’ve seen that coming.”

“But I was the closest, I should’ve had your back—”

Lance doesn’t let him finish. “Keith, the only reason I’m still here is _because_ you had my back.”

Keith swallows thickly, has trouble finding his voice. When he finally does, the words seem to scrape themselves raw in his throat. “I was almost too late. Two inches lower and I would’ve—” He can’t quite bring himself to vocalise the thought, the sting of teeth as it breaks skin once again providing sharp clarity.

Lance leans down and kisses him, soft and sweet and painfully slow, coaxing Keith’s bottom lip from between his teeth and laving his tongue across the broken skin. Keith brings his hand up to cup Lance’s face, fingers almost reverent as they graze the ridges of the scar along his cheek. He feels Lance’s pulse jump just under his jaw, the racing of his heart echoing in time with Keith’s own.

When they break apart, Keith’s lost track of time, thoughts scattered to the winds, and all that remains is Lance — the full bow of his clever lips, the rough drag of his calloused hands upon Keith’s hips, and his body heat spilling over the sheets and over Keith, threatening to drown him. The quirk of Lance’s lips is fond and just the slightest bit smug; he knows the effect he has on Keith, even after all this time together, and he enjoys being able to take him apart.

And Keith, in turn, enjoys being taken apart by him.

“I’m alive, Keith. I’m right here.” Lance drags Keith’s hand back to his chest, just above the little starburst — so small, for all that it could’ve taken everything that matters from Keith. Lance’s heart is racing this time, a high flush dusting his cheeks. “We’re Paladins and getting injured kinda comes with the job, but you’re nuts if you think I’m going to up and leave you behind. We’re Lance _and_ Keith, kind of like those Barbies that come in a pair.”

Keith snorts at the comparison despite himself.

“Rude, we were having a _moment_  here.” Lance pretends to be annoyed, but it lasts all of a second before his pout is curling up into a grin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

“ _Promise_? Pfft, what are we, five? Let’s make a bet, it’s no fun if there aren’t any stakes,” Lance says. At Keith’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “I bet that we’re gonna make it till we’re old and wrinkly and bald — not me, though, because I moisturise every day and good hair runs in my family, so I’ll probably still look twenty when I’m eighty but,” he leans forward and kisses Keith on the nose, “I can promise to still love you even when you look more like a raisin than a person.”

Keith can’t help it — he laughs, loud and with his whole body, his shoulders shaking as he pulls Lance to him and Lance is squirming because “ _Keith, that tickles oh my god!_ ” And then Lance’s hand is in his hair, and they’re kissing again, mouths melding together in a rhythm borne of familiarity. Keith licks his way into Lance’s mouth and enjoys the way Lance’s moan vibrates against his lips.

It’s awhile before they pull apart, both their lips slick and slightly swollen. Keith shifts up onto his elbows, cradling Lance’s face in his hands, and presses a featherlight kiss onto the jagged skin of his right eyelid. It’s not the first time Keith’s done this, but from the corner of his eyes, he catches sight of Lance’s ears going red.

Keith doesn’t bite back his grin as he moves to trail kisses down Lance’s jaw to the tiny scar he knows hides just below where Lance’s hair starts to curl against his neck. And then he presses a kiss to the red, slightly raised skin of Lance’s shoulder, where a burn from an energy beam is still in the process of healing. And another to the healed gash along his bicep as he works his way down to Lance’s chest.

Lance’s breathing is shallow and Keith feels his heart stutter under his lips when he finally presses a kiss to the healed starburst.

“I’m never going to be almost too late,” Keith says, inches from Lance’s scar, “Not again.”

Goosebumps breakout across Lance’s forearms, his gaze fixed steadily on Keith.

“I know,” Lance says. He brushes Keith’s hair out of his face and presses a chaste kiss to his forehead, before rolling over onto the bed and pulling Keith back into his arms.

They lie in the heavy silence for a minute as their breaths sync, Lance tracing idle patterns into Keith’s back, across the scars Keith has there.

“Hey Keith?”

Keith hums in reply.

“Do you know how I got this scar?” Lance says, lifting his arm to show a thin, wobbly line of pale skin where it stretches just along the inside of his elbow.

Keith has intimate knowledge of all of Lance's scars, from the one across his face to the ones along the sensitive skin behind his knee. Sometimes, this makes him forget that he hadn’t been there for some of Lance’s scars, that there was a time when he wasn’t a part of Lance’s life.

“No,” he says, propping his chin on Lance’s chest and peering up at him expectantly. Lance grins.

“It’s a really cool story. Okay, so my sister said I couldn’t…”

Keith feels his unease ebb away in the tide of Lance’s words, in how Lance gets that faraway look in his eyes when he talks about his family back on Earth, a wistful tilt to his smile.

Not all scars hold terrible memories. Some, Keith thinks, can keep cherished memories close. He finds himself reaching out, brushing his fingers gently against the crook of Lance’s elbow, along the seams of his scar. Lance smiles down at him without pausing in his retelling, his fingers dancing across Keith’s back as he grows more animated, caught in adventures of the past.

Keith is content just to watch and listen, finding solace somewhere between the unwavering beat of Lance’s heart and the flurry of his words washing over Keith, taking him back to a time when Lance was nine and missing a front tooth and was trying to prove his sister wrong by scaling an “unclimbable” tree.

**Author's Note:**

> comments sustain me and make me really, really happy! 
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/neiljortsens)  
> [tumblr](http://jortsens.tumblr.com/)


End file.
